Kyle saw a play that broke the rules. Pete wrote one in a weekend that made his wife cry. Kyle wrote one where a celebrity chef invites a comeuppance. Also: squirrel suits, The Lego Movie, and a listener asks whether posting about your creative process counts as art, therapy, or mild fraud.
Kyle saw a play that broke the rules. Pete wrote one in a weekend that made his wife cry. Kyle wrote one where a celebrity chef invites a comeuppance. Also: squirrel suits, The Lego Movie, and a listener asks whether posting about your creative process counts as art, therapy, or mild fraud.
Mandy is broadcasting from Greece, where thousands of years of myth-making about heroes, gods, and monsters have made her absolutely certain the gang needs to figure out which god they worship, which hero they’d follow into a burning building, and why the shark in Jaws is the most terrifying monster in cinema precisely because it does not care about you at all.
Every creative is running on at least one magnificent lie — and this week, the crew confesses theirs. Pete, Mandy, Kyle, and Ryan name the fictions that get them to the keyboard, the audience living rent-free in their heads, and the craft rules they break without remorse.
This week, Craft and Chaos declares a brief ceasefire with the howling void and asks a genuinely radical question: what do you do that has absolutely no purpose except that it makes you happy? The answers involve a lathe, a murder, a harmonica, and the strongest case ever made for a 2002 kung fu parody that bombed so hard at the box office it practically cratered the earth.
